


The Rodeo

by ThatwasJustaDream



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, In Any Universe- McDanno Happens, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:52:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8686501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatwasJustaDream/pseuds/ThatwasJustaDream
Summary: Just a little AU ficlet prompted by a conversation some weeks ago about the rodeo. Also, an excuse to have Steve take his shirt off in slow motion.





	

Of all the father-daughter outings Danny Williams would ever share with his Grace-Face, he figured this one had to be, by far, the strangest and most unexpected. But Grace was eleven now, and suddenly noticing boys - including the deeply shy (thank you, sweet God, thank you), and extremely near-sighted tween named Frank seated to Gracie’s left. And since Frank’s dad worked for the publicity house that was promoting the rodeo currently visiting Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City….here they were.

“Danno, they don’t kill the horses, right?”

“No, of course not, sweetie. I wouldn’t have you within ten miles of this place if they did. You’re thinking of bull fighting.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Grace looked deeply relieved, like it had been on her mind all the way over, maybe.

“That’s not to say you might not see some distressing things,” Danny gestured toward the far wall where the horses shot out through a gate. “The broncos — it’s their job in this sort of a play we’re watching to toss the cowboys off their back. And the cowboys…the ones that hold on longest and the best, they win. The ones that don’t hold on….well sometimes it’s not pretty when they get danced on by a huge animal with hoofs.”

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I’ll just look away if that happens. The cowboys...picked to be here, didn’t they? The horses don’t get a choice, so….”

“That’s a great way to look at it, sweetie. You are wise beyond your tiny number of yea…”

Danny let the thought trail because Grace was already ‘gone,’ whispering something in Frank’s ear, the two of them giggling, Frank offering her more of the popcorn from the bag in his geeky, pudgy little boy hand.

Danny returned the ‘aren’t they cute’ smile Frank’s parents were giving him from down the row, then let himself sink into the spectacle.

The seats weren’t only free, they were also pretty fantastic: first row and barely off to the side of the main action, a few yards from where the cowboys came walking by on their way down cement steps to the locker rooms underneath the stands.

Danny had only tangentially noted the parade of dust-covered brawn in between rounds. Most of the guys were rough, a few years past their prime, and frankly very battered by their profession - nothing lighting up their faces, a whole lot of spitting-snot-into-the-dirt going on.

Until….

One of the cowboys walked up, stopping barely to Danny’s right and not even three feet away — a mere two feet down from their seats. He tossed a rucksack to the ground like he was taking his less than stellar day in the ring out on it. Danny remembered watching him ride: Long, solid, sculpted body twisting and writhing in the saddle, taking every bump and buck with a look of almost ferocious concentration on his face. Something so determined…. it was almost manic.

As much as it had impressed him, apparently the guy’s performance wasn’t up to his own standards; he had a pout on his beautiful lips, now, as he tossed the clean shirt he’d pulled from the rucksack over the rail right at Danny’s feet.

Danny watched, almost inadvertently, as the guy proceeded to undo his dirt-stained button down, muttering to himself as he tugged it off. He kind of expected he would keep walking then, and finish the job in privacy - but …not so much. He continued to disrobe right then and there; fingers dipping under the bottom hem of his olive green t-shirt, arms crossed as he pulled it up, up, up and…… 

Danny swore later, it was like time stood still.

He tried to look away; knew he should look away, but…. Grace and Frank were chattering like chipmunks, perfectly unaware. Frank’s parents were reading the program, seeing how many riders were still to come. 

And so he watched what was right in front of him, because….ohhhh….

The t-shirt slid up, revealing a sweet mound of barely-there belly followed by inch after inch of firm abs that begged to be traced and mapped by fingertips. The guy was tan, as if he were outdoors all day every day, maybe, the rich golden brown of his skin complimenting the dark hair decorating him from treasure trail to belly button. His corded pants slid a couple of inches south as he twisted and tugged at the shirt, and….damn… between that ‘v’ below his hips and the tight cargoes….. not much left to the imagination, really. Not much at all.

The tee continued on its journey over his broad chest; skin glowing, sweetly furred and slick with sweat, two milk-chocolate colored nipples riding high from the gentle abrasion of the fabric and… Danny felt a twitch south of his own belly button significantly stronger than anything he’d felt in …way too frigging long.

“Sweet….Jesus…”

He didn’t realize he’d muttered the words out loud until he saw it; the cowboy’s grey-green eyes flying Danny’s way as the t-shirt popped off of his head and, damn that t-shirt, messed up the guy’s wavy hair. Made it all bed-heady.

Danny had an uncomfortable realization of his own mouth hanging softly open, his eyes going over the guy’s arm tats in a way that strongly suggested how much Danny would like to maybe lick them…if he didn’t mind.

And then, right as he wondered if Frank’s parents were picking up on this? The guy….winked.

Oh, fuck…..the cowboy winked at him.

“Enjoying the show?” Danny heard him ask.

Three simple words, but the warmth in that voice and the sweet rasp behind them? Danny was now officially in danger of pitching a tent that an entire pack of Boy Scouts could camp under and…when? When had this ever happened to him due to a dude in, like, fifteen years, maybe?

“Yes, very much,” He heard himself say, much to his own surprise. “We don’t get anything like the rodeo here in New Jersey very often.”

The guy was drying his chest and armpits with his discarded tee as Danny talked, pulling on his fresh shirt and stretching in all directions as he got the arms pulled over his damp skin and…well, all that did nothing to resolve Danny’s erectile crisis, did it?

“The pleasure is all ours….” the cowboy said, the rasp even more pronounced.

Then he was gone. Rucksack in his hand, shoving his dirty shirts in it and exiting stage left, sauntering like he knew every step he took and every muscle he was moving was being regarded desirously.

Danny couldn’t remember when he’d been so sorry to see someone go. Or, yes….. so happy to watch them walk away.

The fog lifted, eventually, and he returned to the world of the actual rodeo - heard his daughter and Frank laughing, heard the crowd buzzing at an especially long ride that had just finished.

But he felt it, still: That little bit of something sad that made him wish for….what? More? That wasn’t possible. 

Which made him cranky, and ready to get the hell out of there.

~*~

“Danny, can we? Can we go?”

They were walking back to their cars, Grace’s hand in his - but he’d been lost in his thoughts and missed what ‘can we go?’ was actually about.

“Go where, babe? We’re supposed to be at your gramma’s for Sunday dinner in an hour, so… I don’t think…”

“Frank’s parents invited us to the after-show dinner. It’s at a steak house and…the cowboys are going. And there’ll be horses and we can pet the horses and so I was hoping….”

Danny couldn’t help it: his eyes shot away from her, over toward the bus she’d pointed to, where many of the participants and presumable dinner guests were boarding….

….only to see a familiar dark head of hair; a cowboy with a saunter that couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else’s. 

“Yes, sweetie,” Danny said. “Tell Frank’s parents thank you, we’ll be glad to join them. I’m sure your gram won’t mind if we miss one Sunday dinner.”


End file.
